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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102557">Dangerous Secrets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisausten/pseuds/Artemisausten'>Artemisausten</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Gentlemen (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Masturbation, Lots of you teasing Ray, Rating May Change, Ray is just trying to be a good guy and keep you safe, Romantic Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:01:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisausten/pseuds/Artemisausten</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A story where you're Mickey's sister and Ray has to protect you from the Russians...while keeping your relationship secret.<br/>__________________________________<br/>“Don’t let anything happen to my sister.” Ray would have to be a fool to miss the look of concern and desperation in Mickey’s eyes. It might just be the only reason that Mickey actually agreed to this, he thinks.<br/>“I won’t.”<br/>And Ray means it. He cares about you just as much as Mickey does. He’s not about to let you get hurt or caught in the crossfire of a feud related to Mickey’s business. Especially, he thinks, not one that he accidentally started. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.<br/>Which means, he tells himself, absolutely no crossing the line with you while he’s protecting you. If he’s going to keep you safe, he has to stay focused.<br/>He has no idea that you’re already planning all the ways you’re going to distract him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Raymond Smith/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I actually posted this on tumblr forever ago and someone left an ask about it, so I'm reviving it for some harmless fun and a little Charlie appreciation. Rating may go up. I haven't completely decided yet.<br/>I'm just here to have a good time.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the best of times and the worst of times when you sneak off to meet Ray behind Mickey’s back. Half of it, you think in frustration, was the idea that you had to keep everything a secret because, well, you hadn’t really gotten around to telling Mickey anything yet. The other half of it, you think with no less amount of frustration and a tiny bit of embarrassment, was that you had to tell Mickey at all.</p><p>Sure, you think as you paced the room, waiting for Ray to make his grand entrance, he is your older brother…but that didn’t mean that he got to have an opinion over every aspect of your life…did it? It’s not like he has any say over what you do or who you see, or—“Why are you pacing like that?” Or, you think as you pause to look at Ray from where he stepped into the room, who you’re with.</p><p>Who you’re in love with.</p><p>Who you’re planning to push back against that creamed colored wall and have your wicked ways with.</p><p>“What do you mean, why am I pacing like that? What took you so long?”</p><p>Ray is giving you a look that’s somewhere between disbelief, exasperation, and confusion—he’s not sure which he’s feeling, he thinks, but he knows that it’s one of them and it’s getting a lot worse with each second that you look at him like that. “I do work,” Ray says calmly. “For your brother. Who would not be happy with this.”</p><p>You don’t need the reminder, you think as you glare at him.</p><p>You do have other needs, though. Pressing needs. Important needs. You put on a special dress and got a new lipstick and a fresh box of condoms to help with these needs.</p><p>
  <em>You want Ray to ravish you, goddammit.</em>
</p><p>Ray, of course, has conveniently left out the part where he just left a very tense meeting with Mickey and some Russians. He shifts a little in his crisp blue coat, distinctly aware of the weight of his gun where it rests against his hip. He can still hear the not so subtle threats against Rosalind and you in a thick Russian accent as one porky finger reached toward Mickey in a menacing gesture. The second they left, Ray was instructed to arrange protection for Rosalind and to figure out wherever you’d been sneaking off to recently and make sure you were safe.</p><p>Which really worked out pretty well, Ray thought grimly, since you’d been sneaking off to see him.</p><p>You run your tongue over your lower lip, giving Ray a not too subtle smile and taking a slow step toward him. “Let’s not talk about Mickey right now,” you suggest, quietly compiling a mental list of all the other things you’d like to do with one Raymond Smith.</p><p>“That’s a good idea,” Ray agrees. He does have to come up with a plan to keep you safe, after all. Arrange for somewhere you can stay. Make sure you have round the clock protection. He should probably call Bunny, too, he thinks. Ray is so busy making plans that he’s only vaguely aware of how you’ve inched forward, reaching out to trail some fingers down his shoulder and inward toward the buttons of his shirt as you press the lower part of your body against him. “We should go to the car.”</p><p>You’re inches away from getting him out of that shirt, you think, and some other things, when you pause and frown at him. “The car? Really?” You glance around the fancy hotel room you’ve rented for the night. “But it’s so much more comfortable here. There’s a bed.”</p><p>
  <em>And no gear shift to climb over.</em>
</p><p>Ray gives you a serious look, forgetting that he hasn’t told you about the Russians and the threat against you. “The car is safer,” Ray insists.</p><p>“But the bed is softer,” you insist, pressing your hips against his and smirking a little in satisfaction at the feeling of him pressing against you. “And big enough for two.”</p><p>Ray has to remind himself to focus when you press against him like that. He has to remind himself to focus when you smile at him like that, too. And when your hands move down his chest, trailing slowly and plucking at each little button they pass and tugging at his shirt and—“Is that a gun?”</p><p>Ray could kick himself for getting distracted.</p><p>Even if he really wants to, he thinks. A lot.</p><p>You look at Ray in concern. He isn’t usually armed when he meets you. “Is something going on?”</p><p>Ray looks down at you, all earnest eyes and soft lips and that perfect dress just slipping over one bare shoulder, and sighs. “We need to talk.”</p><p>It’s really too bad, he thinks. It <em>is</em> a nice room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’re not happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not in the least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not forever,” Mickey promises from behind his sturdy oak desk. He’s wearing another of his nice tweed suits, in a combination that you’ve always thought looked garish but that the English gentry seem to find stylish as hell. He doesn’t seem bothered that you’re slouched in the chair opposite him, arms crossed over your chest in protest as you level your most sour look in his direction and pointedly ignore Ray in his position at the door. “It’s just until the situation is handled.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You suppose it makes sense that Mickey wouldn’t be bothered by the sour look--after all, you’re not exactly the most dangerous person he’s ever dealt with--but it doesn’t make you feel any better. “And how long </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> it take to ‘handle the situation’?” You emphasize your question with air quotes, deciding not to think too closely on what Mickey means by that phrase.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mickey gives you that half-smile you know all too well from how he handles his business associates and, you remember, your parents back when he would talk them into things they weren’t naturally inclined to do. It’s not a reassuring gesture. “Trust me, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In other words, you think, he has no idea and he doesn’t want to say it. “That’s nice,” you reply, wholly unconvinced. “But I have work to do, and I can’t do it when I have a chaperone following me around everywhere I go.” Well, technically you can, of course. You just don’t want to. You eye the chaperone in question, a middle aged guy named Steve with a goofy grin and too much gel in his hair, and become really motivated to try and talk your way out of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” Mickey drawls, your uncomfortable glance toward Steve not lost on him, “I was thinking you could just work from home for a while. No going out to the office at all. You could even come and stay with Rosalind and I.” Mickey is serious when he says it--he’s doing his best to try and keep you out of harm’s way. He won’t let anything happen to his sister anymore than he’s going to let anything happen to his wife. He’s already put extra people on her to make sure there aren’t any surprises. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Convincing you is something else entirely.</span>
</p>
<p><span>And you’d rather be killed by the Russians than have to move in with Ros and Mickey. You can love them all you want, but there’s only so much of them </span><em><span>loving</span></em> <em><span>each other</span></em><span> that you can stand. “That’s funny. I was thinking I could go back to work and do whatever the hell I want </span><em><span>without</span></em><span> a chaperone.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Mickey looks at you as he’s trying to be gentle in telling you what you’re going to do but he’s losing patience. Which, coincidentally, is exactly how you feel. “Y/N…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one who’s always saying that I shouldn’t be around your business associates or have anything to do with your work, that you don’t want me anywhere near the danger or the drug world,” you insist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mickey’s smile grows a little tight. “That’s when there aren’t Russians trying to kill all of us. All you have to do is stay home with Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Bunny, he thinks. And a few other people. Strategically placed so that neither you or the Russians will notice them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ray,” you say sharply. You can feel Ray go deathly still where he’s standing by the door, put on the spot and as uncomfortable about it as you are unhappy about this whole situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray doesn’t quite meet Mickey’s eyes when Mickey looks between you and Ray. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about Ray?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I’m going to agree to this, I want Ray. Not Steve.” At least, you think silently, you might be able to get something out of it. Some quiet time with Ray, away from worrying about being caught by Mickey or his men. “I’ll even stay at his place, if that will make things easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You plan to make things harder, if you’re honest about it--for Ray, that is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray can’t decide between being intrigued about the idea or panicked about what Mickey will think of you suggesting it. The line, he remembers, has always been clearly drawn. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are off limits. He’s already broken some pretty big rules with your secret relationship...he’s not sure about the idea of flaunting it like this. That seems like a pretty big risk and an easy to get caught.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You and Ray are actually waiting for Mickey to say no, or something even worse, when he surprises you. “That’s actually a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You could die from happiness. Ray could die from relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mickey doesn’t want anyone to die at all--that’s the main reason he’s agreeing to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is?” Ray can’t quite hide the surprise in his voice as he watches Mickey shift in his chair a little, eyes lighting up with something like relief or even amusement. Ray can’t tell which.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y/N can go stay with you, and you can keep an eye on her.” Mickey sounds like he’s just come up with the most clever idea in the universe, as if he’s found a way to trick you into cooperating. As if, you think with no small amount of smugness, he expects that you hated the idea and only suggested it because you thought he would never agree to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he is half-right. You didn’t think he would agree to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could even tie her to bed if she tries to sneak out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mickey says it with no small amount of warning, you think, but it takes everything you have not to burst from your seat and drag Ray from the room at the very idea of it. You have to actively work to look as if it doesn’t sound exciting, as if the very idea of it doesn’t make your pulse race and conjure up all kinds of images of you and Ray and being tied to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You may well die from this experience, but it’s not going to be from the Russians catching up to you. It’s going to be from Raymond Smith and all the things you want to do to, and with, him in his bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray, meanwhile, can’t help feeling like he’s either being set up to get caught or something worse--that Mickey has no idea what’s going on between you and Ray and he’s bound to find out, and there’ll be hell to pay for it. He clears his throat and takes a step closer into the room. “Maybe we can talk about this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You give him a quick look that’s meant to be glare to keep up the charade with Mickey, but that you secretly hope conveys to Ray that he should absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> argue with this outcome, while Mickey looks between the two of you with an expression of exasperation and fatigue. He’s already made up his mind about doing whatever he has to so he can keep you safe, even if it means losing one of his most trusted men to bodyguard duty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span> not giving him a choice about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s already decided.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that, you think silently, doing your level best not to look Ray in the eye as you push out of your seat and turn toward the door, is that. You walk out quickly, waiting in the next room as Mickey walks over to Ray to have a quiet word with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quiet, stern word. “Don’t let anything happen to my sister.” Ray would have to be a fool to miss the look of concern and desperation in Mickey’s eyes. It might just be the only reason that Mickey actually agreed to this, he thinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Ray means it. He cares about you just as much as Mickey does. He’s not about to let you get hurt or caught in the crossfire of a feud related to Mickey’s business. Especially, he thinks, not one that he accidentally started. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which means, he tells himself, absolutely no crossing the line with you while he’s protecting you. If he’s going to keep you safe, he has to stay focused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has no idea that you’re already planning all the ways you’re going to distract him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If I'm being honest, my brain is already working on that "tie her to the bed" thing. Oh well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’ve never been inside Ray’s house. Oh, you’ve met him for discrete dinners and trysts in hotel rooms plenty of times. You’ve even snuck away once or twice when you were visiting Mickey at his work or heading to dinner with Mickey and Rosalind. You’ve had your share of stolen kisses in half-lit hallways, crying Ray’s name into hotel sheets, and trading glances and almost flirting as you pass each other in between meeting with your brother. You’ve never been to his home, though. At least, not until now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, you’re lounging on Ray’s large, incredibly soft bed, humming with satisfaction as you sink into the sheets and go over your plan in your head. For the time being, you’re stuck with Ray by your side 24/7, and while you would normally complain about the idea of Mickey having someone babysit you, you’re a little smug about having successfully maneuvered your secret boyfriend into </span>
  <em>
    <span>being</span>
  </em>
  <span> said babysitter. There are so many ways that this plan could go now, you think. So many wonderful, delicious, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sinful</span>
  </em>
  <span> things that could happen. You’ve been planning them ever since you and Ray left Mickey’s—and it’s a beautiful plan. In your mind, you and Ray will spend this time getting closer to each other. You’ll eat meals together, have fun together, spend the day together, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shower </span>
  </em>
  <span>together...go to bed together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You feel a little thrill rush through you at the thought of that last one in particular.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You and Ray will be like a real couple, you think, and it will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’ve even brought your special lingerie—that lacy new set you’ve been saving just for an occasion like this. You’ve been dying to see Ray’s reaction when he sees you in it, the way his whole body will go rigid and his blue eyes will slowly move over every inch of you, and you’ll just lean in his bed just like you are now and open your legs and let Ray come to you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, this little babysitting job is absolutely ridiculous, but at least some good come out of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or it would, if Ray wasn’t planning to be so difficult. “Don’t get too comfortable there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You frown as Ray’s voice pulls you from your fantasies before pushing yourself up on your elbows and giving him your most charming, and slightly lascivious, smile. “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray isn’t a fool. He can tell exactly what you’ve been thinking since you got here. The only time he’s spent away from you since you both left Mickey’s was to come back and get the guest room ready while Bunny took you to pick up a few of your things. He hadn’t even needed Bunny to explain his raised eyebrows and glance toward your overstuffed suitcase to know that you were up to something. And there you are now, spread over his bed, appreciating every inch of it and probably plotting everything that you wanted to happen in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the things, Ray thinks silently, that are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to happen. “The guest room,” he answers simply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deciding that Ray can’t possibly be serious—why would he stick you in the guest room when you two finally have a legitimate way to be alone together without suspicion—you tease Ray by opening your legs invitingly, letting that smile turn into something that you hope is more seductive. “We can do it there, too, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray smirks and takes a few steps into the room, feeling himself grow more interested in the idea the closer he gets to the bed and your wonderfully parted legs. And that, Ray thinks as he reaches out for your ankles and pulls your legs closed, is the problem. “It’s not going to happen, Y/N.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your face falls as you gaze at him, trying not to be distracted by the feeling of Ray’s warm, powerful hands wrapped around your ankles. You’ve never thought about it before, but you think you don’t mind the feel of it. “What do you mean?” From the hard look on Ray’s face, however, you get the distinct impression that you’re not going to get what you want tonight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to focus, Y/N,” Ray says slowly, trying to make you understand the seriousness of the situation. There are people who want to hurt Mickey by hurting you, and that’s something that Ray </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot </span>
  </em>
  <span>let happen, even if it means creating a few unpleasant boundaries. “You’re staying in the guest room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You gaze at him for a long moment, letting the words sink in and slowly trying to decipher their meaning as if Ray is speaking another language. Something foreign, you think, and full of shit. “But we’re still going to have sex...right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You have plans, after all. You brought the sexy lingerie. You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. There’s no way that Ray would go and ruin that for you by doing something like refusing to have sex with you. It’s just not possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray groans under his breath, hands still firmly wrapped around your ankles. If only, Ray thinks, it was that easy. It was hard enough to hide your relationship from Mickey, knowing that his boss—your brother—wouldn’t appreciate that you had not only gotten caught up in this world, but you were dating one of his men. Now, though, he has to balance keeping Mickey from knowing about you two, keeping you safe, and stopping the Russians. Sex is a distraction he really doesn’t need.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Y/N. No sex. Not until this is over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look on your face at that moment is one that makes Ray wonder whether he might need to protect the Russians from you instead of the other way around. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you fucking kidding me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’re refusing to play nice. You will not cooperate, you will not play along, you will not let this go. You just won’t. You refuse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You scowl all through the dinner that Ray has thoughtfully prepared, grilling it in the backyard while you wait inside at the dinner table so you don’t get too cold. You pout and poke at the food and refuse to make conversation. You huff and leave to dig through your suitcase, grabbing your bag of toiletries before going to your private bathroom and turning on the shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t even get to share a bathroom with Ray, you think in frustration. You wanted to shower with him. You wanted to seduce him by letting your towel drop casually and letting him see every inch of you as you reached down to pick it up. You wanted Ray to throw you back against a wall and touch you until you were begging for mercy, dammit! You had a fucking plan, and Ray had to go and screw it up by trying to be good at his job!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even a hot shower doesn’t relax you. Either the water’s too hot or too cold, you keep dropping the shampoo bottle, or you’re just too upset to calm down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You don’t need a babysitter. You don’t need protection from the Russians. You need Mickey to stop meddling in your life and you need Ray to fuck your brains out. It’s not complicated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re almost growling as you step out of the shower and towel yourself dry, too distracted to realize that the bedroom door isn’t completely closed. You reach for your suitcase to find something to wear when you catch sight of that new lacy lingerie, the set you’d packed especially for Ray and that you won’t really get to wear now. Well, not for Ray, at least, you decide stubbornly. If Ray can’t appreciate them tonight, then maybe you will for him—maybe they’ll cheer you up and make you feel sexy after Ray sternly dismissed your advances earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’ve just gotten them on when Ray comes to knock on the door, not realizing that you didn’t completely close it. The door falls open as you’re adjusting the lacy panties into place, the delicate lingerie set not leaving much to Ray’s imagination as he gazes in at you and openly stares. He couldn’t hide the way he was looking at you now if he wanted to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s something you appreciate with a small smirk when you look back at him. You didn’t mean to leave the door open, but you’re sure as hell not going to complain when Ray is looking at you like that, all heat and desire and intensity. “See something you like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray’s jaws tenses and he forces himself to take a sharp breath and bring his gaze up to meet yours, noticing the uncomfortable bulge in his pants at seeing you like this. “I just came to check that you’ve got everything you need for the night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray is trying to play it cool. He’s trying to be a gentleman. He’s trying to do right by you. You’ve got to give him credit for that, even if it’s not exactly what you want at this moment. But, you think to yourself, you don’t have to make it easy on him. No, you decide, taking a few steps toward Ray and closing the distance between you two, you’re not going to make this easy on him at all. You pause just inches from him, letting your own barely clothed body gently brush up against his and loving the feel of his hardness grazing against your skin as you give him a mischievous little smile. “I’ve got everything I need for tonight.” You let your body drift against his ever so slightly, the bulge brushing close to the inside of one of your thighs, and you see Ray swallow and grit his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’ll be okay in here?” You can’t help but notice that Ray’s voice is deeper, huskier, when he asks, his eyes perfectly trained on your face and nowhere else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You let out a long sigh, pulling your shoulders in and letting them drop in defeat as you glance around the guest bedroom. “Well, it’s not where I’d like to be,” you admit in a light voice. “And I’d prefer not to sleep alone. But I suppose I can keep myself company.” The way you say, nonchalantly returning your gaze to Ray as you lean in toward him with that mischievous smile back in place, makes Ray think the comment is anything but innocent. You’re close enough to kiss him when you say the words that will haunt Ray for most of the night. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m very good with my hands, you know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray is still processing your comment when you take a step back, yawn, and mumble a quick good night before closing the door and appearing to forget about him completely. He’s still thinking about it when he walks back to his room and starts to get ready for bed himself. The words are replaying in his mind when he finally climbs into bed and turns off the lamp, darkness filling the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can keep myself company.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m very good with my hands, you know.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ray doesn’t need to ask what you meant by that, especially when he starts to hear the quiet moans and sounds of </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, Ray</span>
  </em>
  <span> that tell him how deceptively thin the walls between his room and yours are. It’s the moment when Ray realizes just how hard restraining himself is going to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is exactly what you wanted.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and comments are always appreciated as I live for external validation!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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